


tidal forces

by hell_swan



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Canonical Character Death, F/F, Grief/Mourning, Trans Female Character, link is a trans woman though it doesn't figure into this particular fic, sidon means well but is a moron, the champions deserved better, zelda uses a thousand words where ten would do
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-24
Updated: 2019-02-24
Packaged: 2019-11-05 00:24:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17908541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hell_swan/pseuds/hell_swan
Summary: Link presses the heels of her hands into her eyes, willing the ghosts back into their graves. There are three sets of memories warring in her head, three different times where Mipha’s presence rules each recollection.She is a child, a champion, and an absence. She is a young woman Link never knew beyond their shared responsibility to Hyrule. She is gone and isn’t coming back.





	tidal forces

**Author's Note:**

> this was half personal canon and half "link and zelda are going to be wrecks for another hundred years after the game," alongside a healthy dollop of "mipha is more than a wilting flower in the face of a the hero of time."
> 
> enjoy

Sidon’s shoulders are thrown back, his hands on his hips and a broad smile on his face, because he’s given them something to treasure and protect for the rest of their lives. Link has never wanted to punch him more than this moment, beneath the forge’s curved roof and next to Zelda’s shaking form, the both of them blinking back tears. Sidon looks at them, lost, before realization slams into him with the force of a shock arrow. The two sets of Zora mail on armor stands that flank him don’t say anything, because they’re simply clothes, made though they are from Mipha’s sweat and scales and devotion.

-

“Mipha was in love with us both.” Zelda says as they ride along the western edge of the fields, a few days before Sidon’s heartfelt and heartbreaking gesture. The princess is atop Nayru, petting the white mare’s braided mane, while Link rides next to them on the horse’s chestnut twin. They’re a day or two out from Rito Stable, on an incognito tour of the regions, and Link’s been successful in keeping her thoughts to herself. “Link, did you hear me?”

So much for that.

“I did.” Link says, voice creaky from disuse and an old injury from her early days in the guard. Zelda is staring at her from behind the messy fringe of a quick haircut behind Link’s house. It’s a familiar glare on a familiar face in an unfamiliar country, and her lost century suddenly feels all the heavier. “I’m. I think I knew. Maybe. It’s still hazy.”

“She hid it as best as she could. I’m not surprised that it escaped your immediate notice. But she was no better at concealing her pain than I was then, or you are now.” Zelda says, shaking her head and looking eastward, towards the sacred grounds. It’s become a habit, one that Link’s resisted. Every ruin and battlefield is a trigger for memories, and their clarity erases her present moments with frightening strength.

Link hums softly and urges Farore into a trot, pulling ahead of Zelda. The princess huffs, well aware that she’s avoiding the conversation. Link finds it hard to care with her thoughts settling on Mipha; the way the Zora’s smile would sometimes ring false, and how she brushed any concern away. She would cite the stress of the oncoming storm or an issue with Vah Ruta and Link accepted it. She accepted it, because at the time Zelda still hated her and the Master Sword was heavy on her back and there was no _time_ for anything other than duty.

Now there’s time, so much of it, stretching out in front of Link like the grasslands – an ocean of formless opportunity just barely shaped by the actions she took to save Zelda. Yet none of it holds Mipha, or the other champions Link mourns in strange, hollow ways. There’s only Zelda and the reconstruction of Hyrule that they’re ignoring, that the people expect them to take part in. The princess hasn’t mentioned it since they started their journey, but Link knows that conversation is bearing down.

Better that than the regret hanging over their heads, Link thinks, sighing to herself.

“We should visit the Domain next.” Zelda says, Nayru pulling alongside Farore with ease. If Link was feeling childish, she’d make a chase out of it, but the princess has grabbed a handful of her sleeve and has never been an accomplished rider. The horses slow to a walk and the weight of Zelda’s expectation makes Link look at her. Her eyes are shining, like moonlight off a river’s surface, and she says “we _need_ to go to the Domain. I will not let her feelings die without acknowledging them, somehow, and I refuse to believe you don’t agree.”

“It’ll take at least a week to get there.” Link says, less as warning and more as a test. The Sheikah Slate’s teleportation feature allows for safe travel with passengers – Zelda had tested that with Purah for three hours straight – and if they leave the horses at Outskirt Stables, they can be in the Domain before the next morning.

“The closest stable is a half day’s ride from here.” Zelda says, the slate active and in hand. Link’s belt feels empty without it even as her mind relishes its absence. It guided her across the length and breadth of Hyrule, was witness to every misstep and broken bone that followed. The blessings of Hylia persist, but Link is glad to be done with the burden of a _quest_. She trusts Zelda to keep them on a path worth walking.

-

Link parries a straight thrust from Mipha’s trident and yelps when the Zora twirls her arms, sending her weapon into a spinning recovery that almost takes the Hylian’s head off. The prongs skip off of her shield and she retreats, stumbling in the dust of the sparring ring. From the sidelines, Zelda laughs, bright and clear like a bell. Link finds herself thinking that it’s a beautiful sound, even though it’s clearly at her expense.

“What have you been doing since I last saw you, fry? You hide behind that metal like you’re afraid of me.” Mipha says, the battle drawing out her personality’s hidden edge. The Lightscale Trident gleams in the sun, flashing as she drives it at Link’s middle with the intention of gutting her. Another desperate parry sends it into the dirt and Mipha’s smile at the maneuver is that of a predator who knows the hunt is almost over.

“I’m afraid of your brother. Sidon will be furious if I harm you.” Link calls back, faking bravado in the face of another series of thrusts, each one aimed where her shield isn’t. The Master Sword is only useful when she can bring it to bear on her enemy, and Mipha is keeping it busy turning aside her trident’s wicked points.

From the sidelines, Link hears Zelda’s indignant gasp and the muted chatter of gathered soldiers. It’s rare to see the champion’s showcase their talents, and rarer still to see them test each other. That Link’s trained a good portion of the guard and humbled every single soldier besides is extra cause to watch Mipha press her closer and closer to the ropes of the ring’s boundaries. The Zora’s grinning savagely, teeth sharp and eyes lit with the fire of anticipation.

There’s nowhere left to retreat, and Link’s arms are exhausted from twenty minutes of harried defending. With no other options, she tosses her sword and shield to the ground before tackling Mipha, the Zora yelping in surprise when she’s dragged to the dirt. Plumes of dust follow the impact, covering them both as the momentum of Link’s charge sends them rolling across the ring. Mipha loses her grip on the Lightscale Trident, and it becomes the second sacred relic to take an ignoble fall.

Link goes slack on top of Mipha, laughing as the Zora’s fists rain down on her back. The hits are missing even a fraction of her true strength, and soon enough she stops, huffing as she says “ _cheater_ , fry. Filthy, honorless _cheater_.”

“It’s only cheating if I lost.” Link says, shoving herself up onto her hands, smirking at Mipha. The triumph leaves her in an instant as the reality of their position washes over her – Link’s arms bracketing Mipha’s head, their chests heaving and faces flushed with exertion. She rolls off of the Zora with an embarrassed shriek, sputtering half formed apologies that she keeps breaking off. Mipha looks shellshocked, eyes wide and jaw slack. If she hears Link begging for forgiveness, there’s no sign of it.

It quickly becomes a moot point, because Zelda is stalking across the ring, thunder in her voice and the promise of an hour long lecture about propriety on her face.

-

“He didn’t know. He – he couldn’t have known, that we would react so poorly. You mustn't blame him, Link.” Zelda says, sitting next to her in the room they fled to at the Seabed. It’s one of the private suites beneath the main floor, accessed by tunnel and most often frequented by Zora. It’s a notch below uncomfortable and Link wishes she was camped out in the wilds, a cool night breeze whispering above her bedroll. The hills east of the castle are blessedly nondescript, so unlike the soft, engraving laden shapes of the Domain.

Link presses the heels of her hands into her eyes, willing the ghosts back into their graves. There are three sets of memories warring in her head, three different times where Mipha’s presence rules each recollection.

She is a child, a champion, and an absence. She is a young woman Link never knew beyond their shared responsibility to Hyrule. She is _gone_ and isn’t coming back.

“I don’t _blame_ him.” Link says, sniffing loudly. She can tell Zelda doesn’t believe her, and to be fair, she doesn’t believe herself. The urge to beat a set of teeth out of Sidon’s mouth burns in her belly, hurt and anger and pain boiling in a shared cauldron. “He apologized and we forgave him. It’s settled.”

“Of all the preposterous, bullheaded – you cannot seriously expect to deal with this trauma if you refuse to allow yourself to feel.” Zelda says, getting up and pacing the length of the room. Her boots slam against the smooth floor, a rhythm that helps Link deal with her haughty, aggravated tones. “That armor is made for _engagements_. That the prince certainly knew that is galling, let alone the fact that he ambushed us with it. There is more than enough cause to be furious with him.”

“Make up your mind, your highness.” Link says, frustration strengthening her voice. It’s louder than she’s been in one hundred years, since the champions fell and she died in Zelda’s defense. The princess stops walking, momentarily stunned. “Either you blame him too or you’re trying to convince us both that he’s just careless, not malicious.”

“Of course he isn’t malicious! Sidon is her brother, if he was able to frown at a dog I would abdicate my throne and raise cuccos.” Zelda says, marching back to the bed and throwing herself on it, face buried in one of the pillows and boots behind Link. She screams into Zora woven silk and raises her head, saying “you hide behind the stoicism of your former station, Link, and it leaves me at loose ends when I need you to stand beside me, as an equal. As someone who understands what it is to survive a hundred stolen years. Royalty and court are gone. We’re all that’s left.”

“I know that.” Link says, choking on the admission. The kingdom and their former lives are lost. Their roles are crumbled to dust, useless even in a world that finally has a chance to heal. Their friends are gone, struck down in service of home and honor and love. Their – _Mipha_ is dead, forever out of reach even as she persists in their hearts. “But I don’t know how to fight this.”

“Oh, Link.” Zelda says, scrambling over to hug Link from behind, arms wrapped around her shoulders and cheek brushing against the snarls of her hair. There hasn’t been time to see to its upkeep, not before in the wilds or now as they cling to one another. “You need not be a champion to win this battle. You need only live.”

Link starts sobbing, the tension that kept her grief buckled down during the long journey finally snapping; it all releases in one giant wave, and she cries while Zelda rocks her gently, the princess murmuring soothing, uncertain promises of a day where this great pain has faded.

-

Mipha is sitting next to Link, healing a trio of gashes on her back while Zelda hovers close by. The princess has seen all of the champions injured at least once by now, but when it comes to her knight and the Zora, she’s never gotten used to it. They’re less sturdy than Daruk, less mobile than Revali, and just as stubborn as Urbosa. At least Mipha can and does tend to her own wounds – Link insists on throwing herself headfirst into battle without a single thought towards her well-being.

“I wish you both would use blunted weapons.” Zelda says, eliciting a wry smile from Link as Mipha giggles. The princess huffs and crosses her arms over her chest, one stomp away from looking like a child throwing a tantrum. “I fail to see how taking precautions in the name of safety makes sparring any less useful of an experience. Recruits to the guard hardly fight one another with steel until at _least_ six months into their training.”

“Throw me off Shatterback Point if I ever need to go back to wooden swords.” Link whispers to Mipha, earning another round of giggling that has Zelda groaning and stomping off towards the lake they’re camped near.

“You shouldn’t tease her so much. A slighted princess can cause no ends of trouble.” Mipha says, voice betraying the shy smile on her face that Link can’t see. Outside of battle, the Zora is polite to the point of awkwardness, even with the woman she’s known since before either of them could heft their storied weapons. “Ask Sidon if you don’t believe me.”

“Oh, he’s told me plenty of stories. You chased him through the Domain for an entire day when he found your diary?” Link says, cackling when Mipha shoves into the tender but whole skin of her back, yelling wordlessly. “He refused to say what he read, if it makes you feel any better. Didn’t want to divulge “royal secrets.””

“You’re both horrible. I’ll be speaking to him when I return home.” Mipha says, huffing as she moves to sit beside Link. Her jewelry sounds against itself, an accompaniment to the lake’s waves gently lapping onto the shore. The sun is sinking towards the horizon, and its mellow light brings golden tones to her red scales. Link finds herself breathless, laughter dying in her throat as Mipha closes her eyes, basking in the day’s final hours.

“I’m glad you’re standing with us.” Link says, the words tumbling out of her mouth before she can reconsider them. Being with Mipha now is like those first few years drilling with practice swords and padded shields, every step towards a proper stance, a proper block and counter a precious victory. The time when they were children, when Link’s mother acted as ambassador to the Zora, is like her heritage as the hero of legend; it provides a bedrock to build on.

“As am I.” Mipha says, looking at Link with the sun in her eyes and an uninhibited grin breaking across her face. The affection living there makes the Hylian blush, willing herself to look away even as she drinks it in with a greedy hunger. There’s something more than camaraderie in Mipha’s expressions, something that Link wants to discover once the Calamity is broken on the rock of their defiance.

Mipha sighs and leans into Link’s side, saying “there’s nowhere I’d rather be.”

-

They rematerialize at the shrine within the Domain, water lilies bobbing in the pond that surrounds the Sheikah monument. A few Zora notice their arrival and wave, making Link duck her head. News of the Calamity’s defeat spread across Hyrule in a manner of days, and most assume it was thanks to Link’s efforts. Zelda, for her part, simply waves back before dragging her knight off the shrine and into the Domain proper.

Sidon sees them before they can avoid the exuberant prince. Link gives Zelda an apologetic smile, shrugging as he claps their shoulders in greeting. There’s no harm indulging his hospitality before they get on with their business.


End file.
